


Axe Crazy

by Writing-The-Impractical-Jokers (writingfanfic)



Category: Impractical Jokers
Genre: F/M, Sexy Lumberjack Nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 08:18:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12955149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-The-Impractical-Jokers
Summary: For the prompt: 'can i request a handyman Q. idk if you’ve seen the chris gethard show, but there’s a bit where q is really working a chainsaw and it’s super sexy'As much as this sounds like I've never seen an axe in my life, never mind seen someone use one, I legitimately have chopped wood. My dad's house didn't have central heating and we lived in semi-rural Wales. [/suffering]





	Axe Crazy

“Have you… ever used one of those?”

Q grins at you, and you step tactfully back. In the window behind you, the cats are watching in curiosity, not daring to come outside; you can’t really blame them. Q is holding a chainsaw.

You make sure ‘911’ is ready to dial on your phone, and smile brightly at him.

“C’mon. I’m not totally useless. I was a fireman. I used axes and stuff all the time. Don’t let the extensions on the temple that is my body fool you.” You laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. “Besides… it’s Christmas! Log fires are romantic.”

“There’s plenty of snow around to pack your severed limbs in for when we go to the ER,” you add, and he nods.

“Precisely. Good girl.” He revs up the chainsaw, and you turn your head to see Brooklyn turn her head away.

“Honey, in all seriousness, please take care. Like… do you have… gloves?”

“Yeah,” he says, over the sound of a chainsaw. “Because if it can cut through wood, a millimetre of rubber’s gonna stop it.” You shake your head, and then pull your earmuffs down, but you still hear his warcry. “ _Let’s get fuckin’ festive_!”

The sound of the chainsaw is slightly painful, but the earmuffs give you a chance to focus on Q – or more accurately, on what he is doing. As worried as you are that you’re going to have to explain to the other Tenderloins why he is missing a leg on Monday, you can’t help but appreciate the way his stomach tenses when he lifts the chainsaw. Is it cliché to appreciate a man doing DIY-type things? Well, you can’t watch the episode of  _IJ_  where he’s fireman-ing without getting a bit weak-kneed, so…

He saws the piece of wood in two, and you watch as he throws it aside into a pile, after turning the chainsaw off, of course. How could you have doubted him.

“Whoo! That’s what, two logs? We’re good.” He laughs. “See, I lived. Let’s do more.” You nod, and watch as he looks at the wood critically. “You wanna see me split it with an axe? I can do that.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, and he takes one of the sawn logs, before putting it down on a block of stone that marks where the path usually is. “Okay. Watch this. Prepare to be astounded.”

“Why do you even have an axe? You live in suburban New York,” you giggle, and he shakes his head. “Oh, so you’re Bear Grylls now?” He stomps off through his yard, and you put your head in your hands. “Well, I am less worried about this than I am the chainsaw…”

“I have this axe because sometimes, man just needs to chop wood. It’s genetic. Plus, you know… home defence. Who needs a gun?” he grins, and you shake your head again.

“You keep it in the yard…!”

“Yard defence. Anyway, watch this.” He turns the log, checking the grain of the wood – you wolf-whistle, and he winks, flexing.

“I love a man who doesn’t cut his own leg off,” you purr.

“How about a man who is literally qualified to use one of these babies?  _Literally_. I mean, I’d have to do a refresher course… or some. But…” He strikes a pose, and you pretend to swoon. “Aww yeah. Bet you always wanted to bang a fireman.”

“ _Very_  much,” you wink, and he lines up the ‘shot’ as it were, before chopping the log – it splits neatly, and he laughs.

“Sorry, but I can’t do a Cap and pull it in half.” He rearranges it. “Isn’t this nice? This is a fun sport! For all the family. Watch me chop logs. I nearly said ‘Watch Daddy chop logs’ then realised I would have to actually hit myself with this.” He pauses. “Why the hell did you pick me?”

“You have chopped precisely  _one_ log in about ten minutes. Do you want me to go back inside?” you ask, unable to contain your smile, and he shakes his head.

“Unless you want to. Uh… or we could both, and I can do this when you’re not here to try and impress,” he says, and you nod. He takes your hand, kissing it, and then before you know it, he’s lifted you up and over his shoulder. You yelp, and he grins. “Oh yeah. Still got it…”


End file.
